


What Are You Doing in a Place Like This?

by wheezebraks



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Eddie Kaspbrak, Fluff, M/M, Making Out, Meet-Cute, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Top Richie Tozier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:20:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22412419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheezebraks/pseuds/wheezebraks
Summary: He definitely catches Eddie looking and he smirks down at him, “how about we start with you telling me your name, cutie?”For a second, and then two, and then three, Eddie glares at him. “Don’t call me that — my name’s Eddie. Eddie Kaspbrak.””Alright Spaghetti -””Do not call me that, either.”
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 13
Kudos: 301





	What Are You Doing in a Place Like This?

The simple fact that Eddie agreed to go on this date, should speak to how he is not in his right mind. But Beverly has been begging him for literal _weeks_ about him going out on a date. _Just one date!_ She would tell him. _What can it hurt?_ And then she would casually remind him how long it’s been since he’s been out. It’s true, Eddie can’t deny it. He works al of the time. Working for a high profile legal firm means that he’s got long hours. When he’s asked (or told) to work later, he doesn’t argue. He accepts it and dives in. When he’s not working, he’s fucking relaxing. And he reminds Beverly that having to worry about entertaining another man is not relaxing. Though Bev is sly, and she doesn’t let up until Eddie is so tired that he accepts. And then regrets. 

Thats how he ended up here, in some hole in the wall comedy club that’s loud and — it actually has some weird smell to it that Eddie is definitely ignoring. This is not his kind of date. But, he had agreed and only _then_ did his asshole best friend tell him that the dude had tickets to a comedy show. _Great_. Just his fucking scene. 

Eddie is drinking water. Offering some excuse about having to work early the next morning and he didn’t want to rick a migraine. This guy finally makes his way onto the stage and calls himself Richie _‘Trashmouth’_ Tozier. His date barely looks at him during the first bit. 

The comedian is attractive, he’ll give him that. Tall and broad shouldered, his curly, dark hair is pointing in every different direction, coke-bottle glasses resting on his nose that show off his chocolate brown eyes. He’s built but he’s got meat on his bones. Not like Eddie, who’s small and scrawny. 

The jokes are fucking stupid and Eddie is pretty sure he forgot one halfway though. Simply, he can count on one hand how many times he broke a smile. But he can’t pull his gaze away from the man (and he understands why he calls himself trashmouth. Every other word is vile and wholly inappropriate.)

About forty five minutes pass before Richie Tozier has finished his set, and Eddie’s never been more grateful for it. The clown that Bev set Eddie up with smiles at him.

”Want to take this back to my place?”

Eddie shifts in his seat and looks at the watch on his wrist, makes a face and shrugs, “Actually I should get home. Sorry. Maybe another —” he trails off before deciding on, “I’ll see ya around.” And he offers a forced smile and fucking bolts. 

Unfortunately Eddie isn’t a very luck man, and he’s stopped before he even gets to the door, someone grabbing his wrist and pulling him off to the side. He’s _this close_ to losing his shit, even has his mouth open to protest, but then he sees the big eyes behind glasses and the dorky smile of the same damn comedian (he’s cuter up close. Rugged. Bigger, somehow. God, Eddie’s fucked.)

Eddie has to look up at him, and Richie’s got a brow raised, eyes searching him, and this dorky smirk on his lips. 

”Couldn’t help but notice your weren’t enjoying yourself out there. That _frown_ made it look like you were being forced to be here -” Richie looks around him: his hands, back pockets, feet, “- but I don’t see any handcuffs or chains.”

His face heats up just from the gaze locked on his entire being. “I’m not a huge stand up comedy fan.” He’s honest, blatantly so. 

It must catch the other man off guard because his grin falters and both brows raise. He opens his mouth, but Eddie interrupts, “your jokes were kind of-” this time, he’s the one that looks Richie over. He doesn’t _look_ like type who would pick up random chicks and then make jokes at their expense. Kind of offensive, too. “- do you write your own shit? Looked like you suddenly couldn’t remember one of your own bits.”

Richie’s full on bewildered, but he’s got this wicked grin on his lips, like he’s enjoying the fucking digs. “Alright, short stack, I hear ya. Why don’t you come have a drink with me and we can discuss my jokes compared to the shit other people think I should say.”

For a long time, Eddie considers it. He’s already clicked with this moron more than he did Bev’s moron. However, he doesn’t really do _spontaneous_ and he doesn’t even know this guy and — Eddie Kaspbrak is good at talking himself out of things, even things he really wants to do. 

”As fun as that sounds, I’m gonna pass.”

Richie looks sort of bummed by his answer, but pulls himself out of it quickly and easily. He sighs, “had to shoot my shot.” 

Eddie smiles and rolls his eyes, “anyways, it was nice to meet you, Richie.” He’s already turning on his heels to leave, already halfway out of the door when Richie yells back, “you too, mystery man.”

* * *

For four straight days, Eddie thinks about a Richie Tozier. He wake up thinking about his stupid smile, and falls asleep picturing those big hands. Not to mention, he’s done some googling and found more of his shows. Some are in run down looking places, others are in decent sized venues. His material ranges from the shit he did the night Eddie saw him, and jokes that actually make Eddie laugh _out loud_. He’s pretty sure he can differentiate Richie’s jokes and the ones someone writes for him.

On the fourth night, work is extra fucking frustrating and he decides to have one drink at the bar nearby before going home. Maybe it’ll loosen him up. 

That‘s where he is, sitting at the bar and nursing a martini. He must look angry because not a single person approaches him. The shitty music is too loud and the bartender is some dude who’s paying more attention to the underage looking girls halfway down the bar from him. Eddie is about ten seconds from abandoning his drink and calling it a night. This never was his scene anyways. 

A hand claps him on the shoulder right before he’s about to get up. With a groan, he turns and is taken aback to find Richie standing there, a grin spread wide on his lips. 

”I thought those angry eyes looked familiar.” 

Eddie half smiles, “what are the fucking odds — I was just about to head out actually.”

Richie is shaking his head before he even finishes his statement. “No. No way, I don’t think so. You ran out on my last time.” His gaze falls to the bar top, “finish your drink at least, and if you still want to leave, I won’t stop you.” He leans closer, to whisper into Eddie’s ear, “but I’m a damn good time.”

”I’ll be the judge of that,” he tells him with a pointed gaze before taking his drink and pulling Richie towards an empty table.

Once they sit, Richie’s ordering a drink and Eddie takes the opportunity to flit his gaze over every inch he can see. _God_ he looks good. He’s a little cleaner this time. But still wearing some ugly printed shirt and his hair is somehow messier. 

He definitely catches Eddie _looking_ and he smirks down at him, “how about we start with you telling me your name, cutie?”

For a second, and then two, _and then three_ , Eddie glares at him. “Don’t call me that — my name’s Eddie. Eddie Kaspbrak.”

”Alright Spaghetti -”

”Do not call me that, either.”

”- tell me about yourself. You know my name, what I do for work. Where I stop to have a few drinks. I only know your name.”

”Why’re you so interested?”

Richie sits back and shrugs, “never seen anyone look so angry at a comedy show before. Wanted to figure out why.” He tacks on, almost as an afterthought, “your cute when your angry.”

”I’m a risk analysis — I work for a law firm. It’s a fucking nightmare sometimes. I’m pretty sure I’m at work more than I’m at my own damn home.” He _wants_ to tell Richie these things, wants him to know for some reason. “And I don’t usually do this.” He doesn’t know if he’s talking about drinking, or if he means being there right now with him. 

Richie seems to take it as the latter, because his eyes shine just a little bit more and knocks back the drink in his hand. 

Eddie starts again, when Richie still doesn’t say anything. “Your standup - who writes it? Because some of it is really fucking stupid. But then some of it isn’t _so bad_.”

”Have you been like, researching me, Eds?”

His face goes hot. “No, why the fuck would I do that?” _Yes, I can’t stop thinking about you_. He doesn’t say that, but he’s pretty sure Richie can see right through him. 

He shakes his head and says, “okay,” but he’s got this disbelieving look in his eyes. He hops up and tells Eddie he would _be right back_ , goes to the bar and waits for a few minutes before talking to the bartender and returning with a few shots. “Alright, so — you’re kind of right. I don’t write all of my stuff. But I stick a few of my own jokes in there sometimes.” He slides a shot to Eddie and holds his own up. “Cheers?”

Eddie’s hesitant at first, and then huffs when he takes the glass, clinking them together and downing it. _Whiskey_. He makes a face as Richie begins again. “Apparently, if I plan on making it big, I’ve gotta change up my material. But problem is, the new shit doesn’t always go over well. Clearly.” He gives Eddie a pointed look before handing him a second shot. “Come on, man,” he says before Eddie can deny it. 

They take the shots at the same time. Eddie makes the same face. 

One more shot later and he’s already feeling the effects. He loosened up a bit and smiles more, relaxes into the conversation. “It works on some people. I mean, everyone else thought you were funny as shit.” He shrugs, trying to give Richie the benefit of the doubt, but he’s scrunching his face up as he says it and that’s a dead giveaway. 

”I don’t know. I’ll figure my shit out eventually.” And he drops it, leaning forward a bit more as he asks, “so who was that guy you were with? Boyfriend?”

Eddie laughs at this, shaking his head. “Jesus _fuck_ , no. A friend of mine set me up and it was the worst fucking night of my life — _not because of you_ \- well, maybe a little bit.” He grins, “but he was, uh, I don’t think I’m gonna see him again.”

Richie nods, clearly thinking about this. His eyes trail over Eddie and they’re both quiet for a long moment before he finally says, as confident as anyone could, “I bet I could show you a better time.”

”You think?” He’s caught off guard by this, scoffing slightly. The jokes he’d told involved a dozen or so _women_. But then again, he’d looked at Eddie like he was hungry and only wanted one thing. Maybe he liked both. “Alright. Prove that then.”

It’s the booze. Definitely the booze. Shit, the first time he’d wanted to continue to see Eddie, he’d made some excuse and bolted. He’s losing his inhibitions. 

”Well,” he says quizzically, “I think I’ve kind of already done that, Eds.” Eddie hates how he looks at him as if he can read each emotion. _That’s a lie_ , it thrills him. “I mean, you’ve talked more tonight than you did on that weird fucking date. You’ve definitely smiled more — I think you’re already getting laugh lines, actually,” he makes a point to rest his hand under Eddie’s chin and run his thumb along the corner of his lips. Eddie shivers. “Should I continue?”

Eddie’s heart is racing, gaze stuck on Richie, and it feels like electricity is running through his skin where Richie’s still touching him.

He doesn’t say anything, lips slightly parted, but his mind is hazy. The look in his eyes must say _something_ though, because Richie drops his hand and he’s up and next to Eddie in seconds flat. Instinctually, Eddie turns and Richie got two fingers on his chin to tilt his gaze up. 

Before he can process any of this, lips are pressing hard against his own. 

God, Eddie is completely lost now. For a brief second he doesn’t react, only pulls in air through his nose. Richie pulls back, just slightly, to look at him. Gauge his reaction, maybe. 

Five seconds pass by and Eddie’s hands go to Richie’s shoulders to pull him back down again. Richie smiles against his lips, two fingers stay on his chin, his other hand cupping the back of Eddie’s neck. When he twists his fingers through the hair there, Eddie gasps and Richie takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into his mouth, licking behind his teeth. Richie tastes like whiskey, cigarettes, and something sweet. He can’t lean into Richie sitting like this, so he pushes at his shoulders and eyes him for a minute before pushing him backwards and standing up. 

They're still in a crowded fucking bar, so there’s not much he’s willing to do. But he wants to kiss him again. Wants to learn every fucking inch of him. 

He’s pretty pleased to see Richie’s blown pupils and the fuzzy look on his expression. As if he doesn’t know what to do either. 

”I drove — but, _shit_ , my car is still at the law firm.” He purses his lips, creases his forehead, “I don’t wanna walk.”

Richie smirks and, Eddie is learning to love that stupid smile, “Lyft?” Eddie just nods. “Okay - cool, yeah. Uhm — let’s go then.” He’s being loud, obnoxiously, “let’s go then Spaghetti Man! Your place or mine?” 

”Mine.” He answers too quickly. “It’s like ten minutes away.” But also because he knows he would be too nervous and anxious going to Richie’s place. At least this way, if it’s _bad_ , he can just kick Richie out. Probably not something he should be thinking about, but Eddie is a little neurotic like that. 

He uses his phone to get a car, and it’s waiting for them outside by the time they make it out. There’s a fire burning between them, Eddie wants to touch, kiss, just be near Richie. He’s fucking grateful when they get in the car and they’re on their way. They sit huddled together, Richie’s got his hand on Eddie’s thigh. Eddie’s other leg bounces up and down. 

They don’t talk for the ten minute drive. Instead, sharing looks and _touching_. 

Once they’ve made it to Eddie’s place, he reaches for Richie’s hands and leads him up the one flight of stairs to the door of his apartment - stopping once they make it to the door, when his hand is yanked on and he winds up being pushed into the wall. Richie leans down and kisses him again, hard. Eddie’s up on tip toes, pressing his hands into his chest. It gets dirty quick, all tongue and teeth that but down on his bottom lip. Eddie has to push him off again to unlock the door, but he fumbles with the keys and Richie, impatient, winds his arms around his waist, sucking and biting on his neck, and then teeth are at his ear, until fucking finally the door opens and they’re inside. 

This time Eddie pushes Richie against the door, earning and groan. Lips press together again. There’s not enough time for it to get heated, Richie’s hands press to skin under his t-shirt and he shivers. His shirt is pushed up and they separate so it can come all the way off. It’s tossed somewhere to the side and Eddie pulls back all of the way to look at it. Crumpled on the floor. He bites at his own kiss swollen lip. 

”How about we _not_ throw out clothes all over the fucking floor?”

Richie smiles wide and looks around, “it’s fucking immaculate in here. You’re a little bit of a neat freak, aren’t ya, Eds?”

”Shut up, Richie.”

And then he’s pulling Richie through the small apartment (he picks up the shirt on the way, glaring at Richie and almost challenging him to say something. He doesn’t.) 

They’re all over each other immediately, Eddie is still holding his shirt, and eyes Richie when he pulls back to tear his own off. He must catch his gaze because the corners of his lips twitch up slightly, “gonna fold every article of clothing we pull off tonight or —?”

Eddie huffs and drops the t-shirt, closes the distance between them, lifts up on the tips of his toes again to catch Richie’s lips. Large hands go to Eddie’s ass, squeezing handfuls before Eddie pushes back on his chest to get him to sit down on the foot of the bed. 

He does so willingly, drinking in Eddie’s features and he scoots back. Eddie does the same, his chest heaving already as he meets Richie’s dark, lust filled eyes. 

Eddie drops his jeans and then crawls into the bed, he reaches over into his bedside drawer to fish out lube and a condom, tossing them onto the bed in favor of popping the button on Richie’s jeans. He pulls them down, along with his boxers and licks his lips when Richie’s already hard cock springs free. 

His hand is much smaller compared to Richie’s but he wraps it around the base of his dick and strokes up, using the drops of precum to make the slide easier. Richie hums an, “oh _fuck_ ,” when Eddie licks the head and takes it into his mouth, hand pumping where his mouth doesn’t reach. Hands fit into his hair and he can tell Richie is trying not to buck his hips upwards. “Jesus fuck, Eddie,” he bobs his head up and down a few times before lifting off with a _pop_.

Eddie straddles his hips and Richie’s already pulling him down for a heated and sloppy kiss, all tongue and teeth. His hand pats around the bed, finding the lube and popping the cap.

”Like this,” he whispers against his lips, “I want to ride you.” Eddie makes a show of grinding his hips against Richie’s, their cocks sliding together through the fabric of Eddie’s boxers. It elicits a moan from both of them, Eddie’s head lulling back. 

A hand comes to his ass again to lift him and drag his boxers down, they’re kicked to the floor with the pile of discarded clothing. 

”Yeah, okay. I’m good with that - let’s fucking go, Eds.”

Richie slicks up his fingers and teases it against his rim before pushing inside, Eddie’s breath hitches, bucking his hips against Richie’s. He gasps as Richie thrusts his finger in and out a few times, adding a second a moment later. It pulls a moan from Eddie and he pushes back onto them. 

”More, come on.” He gasps out, leaning down to press their lips together. 

Richie does as asked, pouting more lube onto his fingers and diving back in. Eddie thrusts down as Richie shoves three fingers inside, opening him up, he moans high and loud against Richie’s lips, sitting back up to move his hips. 

”Oh shit, _fuck_ , like that. Right there,” he babbles out when those fingers hit the bundle of nerves. He keens when Richie does it again, nodding his head and spitting out, “okay, I’m ready. I need you now.”

“Are you sure?” Richie asks, sliding his fingers out. Eddie nods again, whimpering. “Okay, I gotcha.” 

Eddie moves only slightly so Richie can slide the condom on, applying more lube and then capping it to toss it to the side. He lifts Eddie’s ass again and lines his dick up, pulling in a breath as Eddie begins to press himself down onto it. 

He lowers himself slowly, gasping and moaning as he does so. Richie helps as best he can, but he looks fucking dazed and lost. “You’re so fucking tight,” he slurs, “fuck you fee so good.”

Around gasps Eddie agrees, “you too.”

Inch by fucking inch, Eddie takes him, until he’s fully seated on Richie’s huge dick. “Don’t fucking move, Richie, god _f- fuck_ , I need -” he pulls in a breath, “I need a second.”

”If either of us moves, I’m going to blow my load right here, right fucking now.” His hands run up and down Eddie’s thighs, both of them catching their breaths. 

Eddie's hands rest on his chest, and after a few agonizing moments, he moves his hips in a slow drag, to test it out. Richie groans and closes his eyes tight.

”Good?”

Richie pops his eyes open, “yeah I’m fucking good. Are you good?”

Eddie nods once and starts to move, lifting himself up slowly and sliding back down in one fluid movement. He throws his head back, mewling at the feeling. Richie’s panting underneath him, touching him everywhere his hands reach. He finds a pace, kind of erratic and desperate, and eventually Richie meets thrusts up, meeting his hips. 

”God damn Eddie, you feel fucking amazing.” Richie reaches for his shoulders to pull him down, apparently hitting his prostate as he does so, because Eddie lets out the hottest fucking sound. He slurs out _there, again_ , and so he bucks his hips as Eddie circles his, keening loud enough that his neighbors might hear it. But he couldn’t care less right now. He’s letting out these obscene _uh uh uh’s_ and Richie finally pulls him into a kiss. Teeth clacking together, tongue slipping in as soon as Eddie gasps again. 

Like this, it becomes more of a slow drag but Eddie can already feel the heat pooling in his stomach and his mind is going fuzzy. Richie’s hands grab at his ass to keep him moving and he moans out Eddie’s name - it’s broken and quiet but it’s enough for Eddie to reach his high, coming untouched, painting their stomachs. He whispers Richie’s name into the crook of his neck, panting and slowing his movements and his head spins. Eddie doesn’t realize he’s stopped moving until he comes down and hears Richie pleading with him. 

” - please, _move_ Eddie. _Eds_.” 

He sits up and picks up the same quick pace, moaning as he does so, overstimulated at this point. It only takes a few more thrusts before Richie’s groaning and pressing his hips up, burying deep inside Eddie and filling the condom. “Fucking _fuck_ ,” he whispers, head falling back onto the pillow. 

Eddie finally collapses, unbothered about the cum sticking to their chests. He hums when Richie’s strong arms wrap around him. They both lay there silently, coming down from their highs and catching their breaths. 

Richie moves first, helping Eddie up and off, running circles into the dimples at his back as he winces. Eddie falls right back onto the bed. He points at the drawer, “wipes,” is all he offers. And, thank God, it only takes Richie a few seconds to realize what he means. He opens it up and pulls out the wet wipes, cleaning Eddie first, carefully and ever so soft. And then cleans himself. 

He tosses them onto the nightstand when Eddie takes his place o half on Richie’s chest, his ear right over Richie’s heartbeat. And then Richie’s pulling the blanket securely over both of them. It almost lulls him to sleep. _Almost_. 

”You proved yourself,” he finally says, “this was ten times fucking better than that shitty date.”

Richie pumps his fist into the air, “I fucking knew it!” He laughs when Eddie does and drops his hand, running fingers up Eddie’s arm. They’re quiet for a moment, Eddie’s fighting to stay away. Richie must realize it, he asks, “do you want me to leave?”

He doesn’t even think, simply shakes his head and presses himself closer, “no. Stay.”

And Eddie can’t see it, but he fucking beams, grinning ear to ear and closing his eyes, his arm wraps tighter around Eddie. He doesn’t fall asleep until after Eddie’s breathing has evened out. 

They sleep just like that. Tangled in each other, completely blissed out. 

**Author's Note:**

> I was kinda thinking about making this into a little series, because I am weak and I know they definitely continue to see one another after this.
> 
> Anyways, comment and kudos are always appreciated!


End file.
